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“Then we'll sometimes meet, James,
As of old we mét oft,
And while we 're together
Think we 've never párted.”

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Rúshing unexpected
Cómes the pássion on them;
When the pássion 's on them,
Whére 's the power to stáy it?

Ah, the hápless creatures!
Hów they ’re tórn and táttered
Bý the ráging pássions
Given them by the good God!

Lét it come more slowly,
Stealthily creep on them,
Still it comes as súrely,
Thé insidious pássion;

Coils itself about them,
Squeezes bones and márrow,
With its fángs their flesh nips,
Spirts its vénom on them.

Áh the hápless creatures
Bítten, squeézed and poisoned
Bý the venomous pássions
Given them by the good God!

Hé it is I 'd púnish
Whó the pássions gáve them,
Nót the hápless creatures
Victims of the pássions.

Walking from FLEURUS to FontAINE L’EVEQUE, HAINAULT (BELGIUM); Nov. 11, 1854.

Betrothed maiden sings.

WÉLCOME! welcome! welcome!
Pretty cléft-tailed swallow,
Twittering at my window
Júst before the sunrise.

Where hast been all winter,
Pretty cléft -tailed swallow,
Ín what pleásant wárm lands
Fár beyond the deep sea ?

Téll me hást thou seen him,
My hardheárted truélove,
Whó last aútumn left me
Ánd took shipping southward;

Fór the south took shipping
Ánd alóne here left me
To watch fór him álways
Ánd look álways southward.

Yés yes, thoú hast seen him, Bring'st good tidings of him: Thát he 's well and happy; That he 's homeward coming;

Élse, my pretty swallow,
Thoú wouldst not so gaily
Twitter át my window
Just before the sunrise,

Bút wouldst go and hide thee
Sádly in some córner
With the móping ówlet
Ánd ill - bóding ráven.

Yés he's coming homeward,
Pretty cléft-tailed swallow,
Téll me the whole story,
Twitter, twitter, twitter.

Walking from BAILLEUL to EBBLINGHEM, DEP. DU NORD (FRANCE); Nov. 19, 1854.

EAT your oáts, my póny;
'Tis your máster brings them,
Feeds you with his own hand,
Lóves to hear your whínny.

Outside it is a roúgh night,
Rainy, cold, and blowing;
Hére you 're snúg and cozy,
Tó your knees in fresh straw.

With old hảy your ráck 's filled,
Eát and sleep till mórning,
Then I 'll bring you more oats --

Pleásant dreams, my póny.
TOURNAY (BELGIUM); Nov. 15, 1854.

Emigrant sings.

NOT a dáy from heaven comes
Bút I think a dózen times
Óf those I 've behind me
Léft in my old country,


my father, mother,
Óf my sisters, brothers,
Óf my aúnts and cousins,
Wondering how they áll are;

Bút of theé, my Nanny,
Each day Í but once think,
Fór thou 'rt absent néver
Fróm my mind one moment.

St. OMER, PAS DE CALAIS (FRANCE); Nov. 20, 1854.


BLESSINGS on my báby,
Gód preserve and love it,
From all dánger keep it,
Wáking, sleeping, álways.

Dón't make it a great man,
Grácious Gód, I pray thee;
Greatness is uncertain,
Óf itself down túmbles.

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